


Scarier Than the Undertaker

by AudreyV



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Jealousy, Matchmaking, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 19:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19341547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyV/pseuds/AudreyV
Summary: Stranded in the 31st century on a ship full of boring idealists, Georgiou finds a way to make her own fun.





	Scarier Than the Undertaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PieHeda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PieHeda/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Страшнее самых страшных страхов](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19928983) by [allayonel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allayonel/pseuds/allayonel), [ST_Discovery_20XX (StarTrek_Prime_Universe)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTrek_Prime_Universe/pseuds/ST_Discovery_20XX)



> And now for something completely different... Mirror Georgiou with some not-entirely-wholesome meddling in the lives of her crew mates. 
> 
> This was originally an alternate start and ending to Less Talking, More Undressing, but I like how it stands on its own too.
> 
> The title is a reference to Mulan.
> 
> Thanks to PieHeda for encouraging me to post it.

“Is this seat taken?”

Sylvia Tilly looked up from her PADD, slightly startled. Philippa Georgiou stood with an apple in one hand and the other loosely grasping the back of a chair.

“Uh, no, you can take it,” Tilly said. She was surprised when instead of just taking the chair to another table, Georgiou sat in it and looked at her expectantly.

“Do you… need something? From me?” Tilly asked.

“I do,” Georgiou said with a slight smile. “I need to know why you and Michael are still sharing quarters.”

“Uh, we like to? Or maybe it's inertia, moving is really a pain in the ass—”

“Yes, that's what you tell everyone, I'm sure. I'm not asking for your excuse. I'm asking what your intentions are.”

“My intentions?” Tilly felt her face getting hot. It had to be beet red by now. “I don't have any intentions with your— she's not your daughter here, you know that, right? Like she's got like four other parents, one of them is dead and we’re still trying to track down the one who was sucked into the future and one was Vulcan and so he was really emotionally unavailable but she had at least one totally nice, normal mom here and—”

“I'm well aware she's not my daughter,” Georgiou said with a huff. She let her gaze linger on Tilly, then smirked. “That's why I'm asking.”

Tilly’s mind whirled. She drank several large gulps of her smoothie while she tried to figure out what the hell was going on. If Georgiou’s interest wasn't maternal then what could it— oh.

“Oh god. You're not asking in a ‘’marry her and make an honest woman out of my daughter” kind of way.”

“Of course not,” Georgiou sneered “That's ridiculous.”

“So you're asking in a…” Tilly swallowed hard. “‘Hey are you fucking her because if not I want to be’ kind of way?”

“In my universe, I’d simply take whatever I wanted. But things are different here, and so I am trying to adapt,” Georgiou said, spitting out the word ‘adapt’ as though it disgusted her. “And since we are all going to be trapped on this ship for the foreseeable future, I decided to try things your way.”

“Um, out of curiosity, what would the Terran way look like, if Michael and I were, you know?”

“If I liked you, I'd have you assigned to a different ship. One on a very long deep space mission.”

“And if you didn't you'd have me executed. Got it.” Tilly realized she was gripping her fork in a tight fist. She gently placed it on her tray. “Well, no beheading necessary! Michael and I are friends. We aren't— you can do whatever you want. She's uh… up for grabs— now you know, wait, no, that's not true, because Michael is a PERSON and not anyone's property or a prize to be bickered over. And she's a wonderful person, the best I've ever known, and she's kind and smart and beautiful and I can't believe we are having this conversation like what she wants is totally inconsequential!”

“Oh, Red, don't get so indignant,” Georgiou said with a smirk. “I'm well aware of what Michael wants.”

The statement took the wind out of Tilly’s sails. She felt her stomach drop and lurch and she suddenly felt cold.

“You are?” Images of Georgiou in bed with Michael popped into her mind unsummoned. Michael crying out in pleasure. Georgiou leaving marks down her chest. The two of them kissing passionately.

“Tilly? Is something wrong?” Georgiou asked with what Tilly was sure was feigned concern.

“Nope, nothing’s wrong. I'm totally fine— actually, I'm happy for you.Both of you. Michael’s a good person and she deserves to be happy, whatever that happiness looks like. And if it's you— I mean, I'm sure you're really great at sex— oh god I said that out loud.”

Georgiou merely smiled. She took a bite of her apple and chewed contentedly, then she got up and came around to stand behind Tilly’s chair. Her front pressed against Tilly’s back as she reached over her to put the apple on the tray.

“Do threesomes exist in this universe, Red?” Georgiou whispered, her breath hot on Tilly’s ear.

“Uh, you know that they do, considering you ditched me in the middle of an important mission to have one.”

“Of course. Silly me. Then I suppose you know I'm not opposed to sharing.” Georgiou stepped back, forcing Tilly to contort in her seat to face her. “Keep it in mind,” she added before turning on her heel and striding away.

“That is the last thing I want in my mind,” Tilly grumbled. She looked down at Georgiou’s discarded apple, noting the perfect even teeth marks along the edge of the single bite. “Ugh. Thanks for ruining apples for me.”

—

A week later, Philippa Georgiou was relaxing with a cup of tea at a table in the mess hall.

“You're the worst, you know that?” Michael glared at Georgiou, who looked unconcerned.

“What did I do?”

“You played some kind of mind game with Tilly.”

“Did it work?” Georgiou asked.

“You're impossible.”

“It DID work. Excellent.” Georgiou sat back in her seat and sipped her tea. “Does she shut up in the throes of passion or does she narrate like she's in a wildlife docuholo?”

“She vocalizes appropriately.” Michael grinned. “You've got a big heart, Philippa.”

“That's slanderous. You're lucky I don't throw you in the brig for saying such vile things about me.”

“We’re in the 31st century. I doubt you’ll find many on this ship who’d follow that order.”

“Perhaps.” Georgiou leaned across the table, a savage sparkle in her eye. “Tell me, is she a redhead everywhere?”

“That's none of your business.”

“No, but I'm so curious. Ah, well. Perhaps I’ll find out for myself eventually.”

“Seriously, Philippa. Thank you.”

“You're welcome for whatever nice thing you think I did.”

Michael left the mess hall, a spring in her step. A moment later, Commander Nhan slid into the seat she’d vacated.

“I guess your plan didn't work,” Nhan said brightly.

“Part of it did,” Georgiou said quickly. “Tilly and Michael are enjoying each other's company.”

“Aw. That's so altruistic of you.”

“Stop it.”

“It's cute when you do nice things for people,” Nhan said, scooting her chair a little closer.

“I was trying to do a nice thing for me,” Georgiou grumbled.

“Maybe one day they’ll let you play too,” Nhan said. “In the meantime, I could use a go, if you're interested.”

“That depends,” Georgiou said. “When's your next shift?”

“I have the next two days off.”

“Good,” Georgiou said with a wolffish smile. “Then follow me.”


End file.
